My Dad and Mom worked hard
throughout their lives. They provided
well for me and my sister, something for which I am still grateful.
Being a factory worker, Dad – and
all his co-workers – received two-weeks off as vacation. For a few weeks during the summer, his
employer needed to clean their blast furnaces, and that wound up being vacation
time.
Off to the ocean for a week at
the water was our regular holiday, with beaches of Cape Cod , Massachusetts
In any case, we packed suitcases
full of clothes, boxes of food, and enough toys to keep us clothed, fed, and entertained,
for at least a week.
Unfortunately it didn’t matter
because we tired of one-another after only a few days; it wasn’t any different
from being home, it was simply a different location. The company remained the same. Alas.
One of the regulars to make the
trip was a big, green metal Army truck that fell casualty to the salty sea in a
few short years. Among the other regular
items was a small box full of naked Barbie dolls for my sister. They were naked because she immediately
disrobed them upon receiving them. In
fact, everyone thought she would grow up to be a stripper.
 |
| A close imposter of our umbrella |
And then there was the
umbrella. It was multicolored vinyl,
attached to a metal pole with a spike. My
Dad would schlep that thing to and fro, and had a special utility rag with
which to dutifully wipe it off after each use.
A small can of 3-in-One oil was an accompanying travel companion.
Each year that beach trek could
have been mistaken for a scene from Lawrence of Arabia. Much like T.E. Lawrence climbing the dunes of
the Sahara with tribes of Arabs, my Dad, Mom,
sister, and I, drudged over the dunes from the parking lot toward Aqaba.
Sherpa-like, each of us had our
own special cargo which was needed to complete the encampment. Dad led this march while proudly carrying the
multi-colored umbrella.
After what seemed akin to days
without water or sustenance, we arrived at the shoreline. This same exercise was repeated – in reverse –
after six hours of skin scorching sun, every day throughout the week. Yeah!
After the first day of acquiring
second-degree burns, my sister and I were ready for an official mutiny. But we could tell time and both of us knew
there would be hell to pay if we didn’t toe-the-line, so we did.
But by next July, we would forget
about this torturous adventure and go willingly to the beach, once again. Neither of us were smart enough to run away
from home.
However, I recalled this story
because I was reading the local newspaper here on The Eastern Shore, and nearly
fell off my chair.
Today’s big front page item,
above-the-fold, was about beach umbrellas.
It seems as though sixty-years
later, society has become stupider. Yes,
stupider.
That news item addressed the
beach umbrella crisis on our public beaches.
According to this hard-hitting story
in The Daily Times, “Beachgoers have been injured – and even killed – by flying
beach umbrellas.”
It was reported “that there were
roughly 2,800 unconfirmed beach umbrella-related injuries between 2010-2018.”
In fact, the situation is so
dire, U.S. Senator Chris Van Hollen, a Democrat from the People’s Republic of Maryland
Now you’re sitting there looking
at your computer screen and wondering what sort of psychotropic drugs I’m
ingesting. For the record: I’M NOT USING
ANY.
But you might want to give
Senator Van Hollen’s office a call. He’s
the one with such faith in his voters/constituents, that he actually said he
wants to make “sure the public understands how to safely use a beach umbrella.”
Growing up I knew my Dad was
smart, but I just realized how smart he actually was. Our umbrella never became airborne in all
those beach vacations, and I never gave it a second thought. He was smarter than a United States Senator
thinks he was.
God rest your soul, Dad.
